This book is a true story of how one night Doreen Mcgettigan's husband John called telling her he was bringing a homeless woman to their home to spend the night. Doreen lived her life being kind and caring and even devoted time in caregiving herself but like anyone had lots of fears and concerns. She did not however allow those thoughts to stop John and by the time he arrived home that cold wet night Doreen had a hot cup of tea, clean pajamas and a hot bath ready to welcome Sophie in. During many failed attempts to get Sophie assistance to allow her to live on her own she moved in with Doreen and John. This is a beautiful story of compassion. Right now we are all in the giving spirit. Please buy this book for yourself and share it with a loved one too. I am so glad to be reading this book. I too have a huge spot in my heart for the elderly and less fortunate and I am learning so much about the system and how we can all make a difference. Thank you Doreen Mcgettigan for allowing me to share this here and for writing this wonderful book.

I believe that negative events can turn into positives if something was learned. One lesson that was taught to me through a personal experience is how we respond to situations is important. It is not what we say it is how we say it. I am working hard each day to realize if something needs to be said express it to the person themselves! Venting to others to get validation of how right we are is wrong. Venting only fuels anger----- it does not resolve anything. I am working hard each day to love my neighbor as I want to be loved. Imagination rules the world! I imagine a day that everyone can SMILE and live in peace. Can we start a pact that we will begin talking to each other versus about one another? Perhaps if two people can smile and talk out the differences little by little others will follow. What a wonderful world it will be! Thumbs up if you will join me. Then share and spread the word!​Happy Friday!

This article was taken from O Magazine. To learn more about this very important topic please visit www.theconversationproject.org. You will find a starter kit to help guide you as well as great articles and information. As a note I would like to add I wish I knew of this website when my Mother was alive. It would have made her final days moments my sister and I could have used spending with her. We instead wasted countless hours with doctors and medical staff discussing what would be the best for her medically. We need to make this topic less fearful and to share this story with others.

The Most Important Conversation You'll Ever Have

No one wants to bring up dying, but talking with your loved ones about the final stage—theirs and your own—may be one of the most important conversations you'll ever have. By Ellen GoodmanPhoto: Mauricio Alejo

Ellen Goodman and her mother talked about every subject under the sun, except one: how her mom wanted to live out the end of her life. From time to time, when somebody they knew ended up on a respirator, her mother would say, in a heartfelt but offhand way, "If I'm like that, pull the plug." But when the time came, it wasn't that simple. As her mother descended into dementia in her late 80s and began to suffer the debilitating symptoms of old age, Goodman, a Pulitzer Prize–winning syndicated columnist, was left to make decisions about her care—decisions that often left Goodman herself feeling uncertain, unprepared, blindsided.

Shortly after her mother passed away at 92, Goodman cofounded The Conversation Project, a campaign designed to encourage people to have honest discussions with their loved ones about how they want to spend their last days—so we can all face death with a little more wisdom and grace. We asked her for some guidance.

Q: You know from experience what it's like when you haven't had the conversation. How did you manage?

It was just plain hard. Every visit to the emergency room or the hospital came with a barrage of choices about whether my mom needed another test or treatment. Finally, one day toward the end, I remember being at work on deadline when a doctor called wanting to know: Should he treat my mother's pneumonia with an antibiotic? I tried to fathom the question: Was this a matter of life or death? Could I call back? Frankly, I felt alone, but of course I wasn't. There are at least 39.8 million Americans caring for someone over 65, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Q. At what point did The Conversation Project take shape?

In the last years of my mom's life, I started talking with other people I knew who had been through similar experiences. One friend was dismayed that her husband died in exactly the sort of ICU nightmare he'd always feared. Another talked about the last-ditch battle with her siblings, each one arguing bitterly about "what Mom would want" but none of them actually knowing. The difference between a good death and a difficult death seemed to be whether the dying person had shared his or her wishes. So a group of my friends and colleagues—about a dozen of us in medicine, media, and the clergy—decided to come together and try to get people talking about this subject.

Q. Why don't we talk about dying?

Elderly parents and adult children often enter into a conspiracy of silence. Parents don't want to worry their children. Children are reluctant to bring up a subject so intimate and fraught; some worry their parents will think they're expecting or waiting for them to die. We often comfort ourselves with the notion that doctors are "in charge" and will make the right decisions. And we all think it's too soon to speak of death. Until it's too late.

Q. When is the right time and place?

​Well, it's never too soon. that's one thing I'm sure of. The first place for the talk is not the doctor's office and certainly not the emergency room. It's at the kitchen table long before a medical crisis. If you're the parent, begin by having the conversation in your head because talking it out with yourself will make it easier to approach your children.

​Ask yourself: What central experiences color my hopes and fears for the way my life will end? Am I afraid that I won't get enough care - or too much undesired care? Whom do I want to make decisions for me if I'm not able? Do I want the person to follow my instructions exactly or do what he or she thinks is best? If I'm dying, would I rather be at home or in a hospital?

​Imagine you are seriously ill, and finish this sentence about living: I want to live as long as I am able to .....

​Now finish this sentence about your death: I want mine to be:

If you're the daughter or son, you might want to begin by asking for advice. You can say, truthfully, "I'm worried about what might happen if you're ill and I have to make decisions for you. Can you help me?"

​Q. Any other tips for broaching the subject?

​Whether you're sharing your wishes or need to hear from your parents, start by bringing up a memory, a statistic, an article,--even this one. Try to remember that these are not Grim Reaper talks. They're not discussions about what's the matter with you. They are about what matters to you. How you want the end of your life to reflect the whole of it. As many people have told us, these conversations produce rich moments of emotional connection. They bring us closer together. What's more, people who have had them tend to choose less aggressive care and leave their survivors less regretful and depressed. What a gift.

Q. What will it take to normalize these talks?

​It's not easy to change a cultural norm, but women have done it before. We're the ones who transformed birth in America. It wasn't doctors who got rid of stirrups and welcomed men into the delivery room- we did it. Once people only whispered the word cancer. Now we march for cures. Women have been major change agents over the last half century, and in our new role as eldercare givers we can do it again.

​

My husband Kevin and I will be moving from our Queens New York apartment to Atlanta Georgia in ten weeks. We will be married 36 years and that along with breaking homes of both my Aunt and my Mother there sure is a lot to go through. I love this quote because it is so true. We postpone ridding ourselves of unused things for so many reasons. Half the things we own are not necessary for our health and happiness. Why on earth would I pack heels I wore for one day that I could not walk in and killed my feet? But for a second I did think about packing them because afterall they were in such great shape.

​As much as we hate to admit it our time on earth will someday end and what will happen after that? People are going to go through ALL OF OUR STUFF! YIKES!!!​The things we leave behind become part of our legacy.

​So, what story does your stuff say about you? Make the decision to toss it yourself. I don't know about you but once I am in heaven, I don't want to peek down and see a bunch of strangers going through my stuff at a rummage sale.

​OK....no more gloom....you get the point! And So Do I....I am making the decision to take only the necessary things and tossing, selling and donating the rest !

All I can say is what a fantastic book this was!!!!

I just completed this fantastic book and I have to say I felt sad when I read the last line and closed it shut! I felt like Elizabeth Gilbert was a friend encouraging me every day to hold onto my dreams!!!

I think so many people do not do things they enjoy for fear of what others will think, or fear they will fail, or they convince themselves with the line " if I am not going to earn a living why bother?" I am one of those people. But thanks to this book I now know the point is because I love doing it. ​​I encourage all of you my friends to read this too. We have to tell ourselves we can turn our cant's into can's and our dreams into plans. For years I have been hauling so much negativity around me. I now am ready to go for a drive, roll down the windows and let all of that negativity blow right out into the atmosphere. I am ready to breath in clean new air....I sure hope you will join me!!!!!!! Great Great Great Book!!!!!

I copied this article from The Good Housekeeping website. This article appeared in the July 2013 issue of Good Housekeeping Magazine. I love sharing articles I enjoy. This was such a nice story. The author Abby Sher writes how she hit reply all to an email when only intending to reply to one person but she learned the kindness of strangers by their responses. This story resonated with me as I have had the same happiness when I write a piece and a stranger answers back with I hear you, that happened to me or that is exactly how I feel. Stories like this make me happy that I enjoy sharing my story too. I cannot wait to read more of Abby Sher's story. I plan on purchasing her memoir titled Amen Amen Amen.

The Worst Email Mistake You Can Make Accidentally hitting Reply All is the worst — or is it? Sometimes a communication screw up can have a silver lining. By Abby Sher

Last week, in a squall of self-pity, I responded to an e-mail from one of my best friends, Susan, blubbering about a fight with my husband, my overwhelming fears about my kids, rejections at work, and how hard it was watching a childhood friend battle cancer. After signing off with a feeble I love you. I want to hear how you are…xo abby, I pressed Reply. Correction: I pressed Reply All. Ugh.

I've made my share of computer slipups, but this broke new boundaries. Susan had started a Google group and was inviting us all to a "schmoozefest" to meet up. There I was, beaming out my inner angst to all of these strangers who couldn't care less about my troubles.

"Noooo! Really?" I whimpered as soon as my snafu dawned on me. First I banged my fists on the table. Then I clicked on something that said Delete Messages.

Neither of those things helped. A few minutes later, I got an alert from the group: ABBY made a new POST!

I moaned some more, then followed my blooper with a pitiful Sorry, folks. That was not intended for the world. Very embarrassed. Please ignore.

I closed my computer and walked out into the fading afternoon to get some air. "Oh, well. Here we go," I told the sky. I felt bits of me floating in every direction, naked and vulnerable. People I'd never met were reading my innermost secrets. I stared at kids' costumes in a nearby toy-store window. Maybe if I dressed up like a tiger, I could slink back intoanonymity.Buzzzz. My cell phone vibrated. My first response:I hate when that happens! Try not to sweat it and all the best. —Betsy

I heard myself gasp — somewhere between a sob and a giggle. Who was this Betsy, and how could I hug her?

A moment later: Buzzzz.

Just wanted to say that it sounds like you have a lot on your plate and I hope things get better soon for you and your family. —Jack

"You're the best, Jack," I said to my screen. "Whoever you are." Buzzzz.

Haven't we all been there? I don't know you, but I will say a little prayer. —Carrie

I let a fat tear fall. It wasn't so much self-pity as relief. Each time my phone buzzed, it felt as if people were reaching out, pulling me back to Earth, taking time to send me their love. I wrote to each person, thanking him or her for having compassion and not dismissing me as a sad sack. I also realized that my gaffe could've been worse: I have a friend who once inadvertently texted her date about how un-fun he was. And another friend once ranted about her mother-in-law via e-mail to her mother-in-law.

Sending out that SOS to a gaggle of Googlers not only renewed my faith in the kindness of strangers, but persuaded me that sharing a few of the uglier truths about my failings as a parent or wife didn't make me unlovable or less deserving of empathy than anyone else. It made me human, in a sea of other wonderful, caring, just-trying-to-make-it-work humans. The next time I get an appeal for help — even if the request isn't directed to me, even if it's accidental — I'll reach out and say, I hear you.

Abby Sher, a writer and performer living in Brooklyn, is the author of a young-adult novel, Kissing Snowflakes, and the memoir Amen, Amen,

I just completed this book and I wanted to share. While the story was heart wrenching it is a book that I am glad I read. Jackie and Warren Hance had no idea the day they waved goodbye to their three daughters Emma, Alyson and Katie as they left to spend a fun weekend with Warren's sister Diane and her husband on a camping trip how their lives would change. On the way home from the weekend Aunt Diane was in a car accident while driving the wrong way on the Taconic Parkway in New York where she and the three girls along with her own daughter died. I remember this story as I live in New York and the main headline on the news was that Aunt Diane had been drinking. I am happy that Jackie Hance did not get into all of the details of why the accident happened but instead let us into her feelings of what it was like to lose three children. I applaud Mrs. Hance for her courage to write the book. I cried on many chapters. The fact that she is sharing this story with the hope to help others is why I am suggesting the book be purchased and read. While she will never forget these three beautiful children she shows us all no matter how dark life gets to find the light. While a sad story to me this was a beautiful book. For more information please visit www.hancefamilyfoundation.org

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************One day I was reading an old copy of Good Housekeeping magazine and came across the article below. I laughed because I loved the honesty and have played the pajama game many times myself. I immediately wrote the author, Jenny Allen, asking if it would be alright to share the story on my website. I felt many of us could relate but are too embarrassed to admit and this would be a great story to share. She wrote me the nicest email giving me permission. I was so impressed that an author who has published books and had articles in countless magazines took the time to answer me. In researching her I found she is truly an amazing lady. She survived uterine and ovarian cancer and wrote and performs in a show titled I Got Sick Then I Got Better. This show has been seen in theaters, hospitals, universities and at cancer conferences around the country. Not only is she an inspiration to many women I have learned through the two emails back and forth she is a caring and kind person. I thank you Jenny Allen for giving me the pleasure of sharing your story. At the end of the article please listen to her inspirational story and follow her website www.Jennyallenwrites.com

Pajama GameFor women who'd rather de-stress than undressWe all know the dirty secret: We are a nation of women who, as often as not, go to bed in our spouse's big ratty T-shirts or in our kids' old gym-wear. But there is one secret never told. I had lunch with my friend Trish the other day, and she brought it up.You know how these things go. One moment you're discussing whether to have the chicken salad or the turkey-burger sliders, and the next you're deep into sleepwear. I had told her I liked the pants she was wearing. They were black-simple, but stylish. They looked comfortable. "Oh they are," Trish said. "I've even slept in them." She leaned toward me, lowering her voice. "Sometimes I sleep in my clothes."I thought this was very brave of her to say. This is the sort of thing you don't go around telling just anyone. I felt a rush of relief. My secret was out. No longer would I have to live in shame. "Me, too," I said."I mean fully dressed," said Trish. "I don't wear skirts, so it's easy to just fall asleep in the whole outfit.""I fall asleep in my skirts," I said. I have the one skirt-it's made of soft, soft jersey, and the waistband is also jersey, and it's perfect for sleeping."Trish has a husband sleeping next to her, while I do not, but this fact, I was impressed to hear, does not stop her."Why do we do this?" I asked."Because we're tired?" Trish said. That must be part of it, we decided.. It's not our intention to fall asleep in our clothes. It just happens. You lie down on your bed with a book or to watch TV, thinking you'll get up one more time to put on something more pajama-like, and then...it just doesn't seem worth it. "Sometimes I take off my socks," said Trish."And I take off my tights," I said."But do you ever just...keep wearing your clothes the next day?"Once again, I was filled with admiration. This was beyond clothes-sleeping, the secret de tutti secrets. "I do," I said.

We agreed we had our standards here, too: We didn't go to work this way; we didn't go places where we had to look good. Later in the day we took a shower and changed. And sometimes--sometimes, we didn't. Maybe we mused, it was the curse of having fastidious, beautifully groomed mothers. Or maybe we just liked not making the effort.We decided what women like us needed was our own line of clothing--clothes not only supremely comfortable for sleeping in, but also impossible to wrinkle, allowing wearers to just get right up in the morning and keep wearing them. The name of our line suggested itself: "Day for Night Wear."I felt strongly that my jersey skirt should be our signature piece. We'd sleep on it.

You all know that I love inspiration and read everything I can get my hands on. I stumbled upon an old copy of Family Circle Magazine and saw a small piece on Savannahbee.com Being a lover of tea and honey as well as having a soft spot for everything down south I went to their website. I loved all their products and placed an order. I wrote the founder Ted Dennard and told him how wonderful I thought his business and story were never expecting a reply. A few hours later he wrote me thanking me for sharing my experience. I was so inspired that someone that busy took the time to write me back so I asked him if I could share his story on my hobby explaining that it was just that but a dream of mine to do. Proudly with his permission I share the wonderful story of a business I know I will be placing many orders from. His story reminds me a dream cannot come true if we do not have one. With hard work his surely did. Thank you Mr. Dennard for reminding us if you have something your passionate about find time to do it!!! And to all my friends pop into the website....www.savannahbee.com

ABOUT SAVANNAH BEE COMPANY MEET TED DENNARD Savannah Bee founder Ted Dennard was first introduced to honey as a 12-year old boy on his father’s Coastal Georgia retreat property when a battered old pickup carrying beehives rattled into his life. The bee-covered driver of that flatbed truck was Roy Hightower, an elderly beekeeper scouting sites suitable for gathering “Swamp Honey” from the White Tupelo tree. In return for a place to keep his bees, Roy offered young Ted an education in that magical, buzzing world, but with a prophetic word of caution, “Son, bees sort of become a way of life.”

OUR BEE.GINNINGS Indeed, bees and honey became Ted’s way of life. He kept bees in high school then at college at the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee. In a tour with the Peace Corps after college, Ted taught beekeeping to village farmers in Central America. He traveled the world to see bees making medicinal manuka honey in New Zealand, rubber honey in Vietnam, logwood honey in Jamaica, heather honey in Ireland, and the famous tilleul lavender honey of France. “They’ve basically followed me, or I them, ever since I met Old Roy,” he says. “Until recently, it seemed more like Fate than a business plan. I never wanted to do this for the money because I never thought I could make any,” then adds, “and I didn’t want to adulterate my passion.”

SAVANNAH BEE RETAIL STORES Returning home to Savannah, Ted kept bees along the Altamaha River, extracting his honey and pouring it into beautiful found bottles, and crafting lip balms with the wax from his hives. Mixed with luscious essential oils, his lip balm formula was hand-poured into tiny tins and given as gifts to friends and family. When he started selling his home-extracted Tupelo around town in 1998, people loved the purity and richness, and the word spread quickly. “I was bottling honey in the kitchen and keeping bees on the roof,” he recalls. When more Savannah stores wanted to sell his honey, he moved the operation to his garage. The little business continued growing, until he was forced to ask himself the ultimate question: To bee or not to bee? With his passion blossoming into a business, Ted decided that he couldn’t ignore the potential, so in January of 2002 he quit his job, mortgaged his house, and put all his money into the venture—the Savannah Bee Company. He expanded the honeymaking “plant” into an old 800 square foot classroom at the Oatland Island Wildlife Preserve, where he paid his rent in honey. 2010 finds Ted operating a 40,000 square foot warehouse on Wilmington Island, a bridge’s distance from the City of Savannah. Savannah Bee operates three retail stores, bottles two distinct lines of world-class honeys, and manufactures a luxury beeswax-based body care line. Today’s operation is stark contrast to the days in Ted’s kitchen, but his passion has never changed. “I just love it,” he says. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”